


alternately terrific

by perpetualskies



Category: Sand Castle (2017)
Genre: Do Not Repost to Other Sites, M/M, Matt and Harper make out somewhere in Idaho that's it that's the fic, the context for this is that I am me and thinking of an on-the-road AU always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24858400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetualskies/pseuds/perpetualskies
Summary: Matt had been insistent that they cross the state line before midday.
Relationships: James Harper/Matt Ocre
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	alternately terrific

**Author's Note:**

> The fic is inspired by [this](https://viskovie.tumblr.com/post/621179896972148736) post, specifically by the line “Blow a Kiss, Fire a Gun.” The title is from a letter by John Cage to Merce Cunningham, dated June 29, 1943.

Matt lifts himself onto the trunk of the car, then reaches out and pulls Harper forward between his legs. It’s hot, intensely so, droplets of condensation running down the cup of iced coffee next to him. They’re at a gas station somewhere along the 93, having passed a lot of desert, and Harper had been about to put his foot down, quite literally, when Matt finally agreed for them to pull over. “Hey,” Matt says, grinning up at him. “I did the math, and I believe you haven’t kissed me nearly enough today.”

The corner of Harper’s mouth quirks up. “Babe,” he says, resting his hands on Matt’s waist, “we’ve been on the road since 4.30 this morning. You wouldn’t even let me stop to take a piss. I had to hold it in until fucking _Idaho_.” 

Matt tries not to grin wider and fails. “What can I say, it made you drive faster, didn’t it?” he replies, and Harper snorts. He’d been insistent that they cross the state line before midday, although as to why exactly Harper still hasn’t been able to pry out of him. Sometimes Matt gets into these moods, restless and a little cryptic, insists they drive and drive and drive—Harper chooses not to argue, mostly, and instead waits for Matt to tell him on his own.

“However—” Matt gives Harper’s shirt another little tug and adds, “—that does _not_ mean you can just neglect all of your _other_ responsibilities.” 

Harper cocks his head, reaches up to run a thumb along Matt’s bottom lip, thinks on it a little. “You know, you’re absolutely right,” he decides after a moment. “I _have_ been a _terrible_ boyfriend.”

“The worst,” Matt agrees and nods along, his gaze dropping to Harper’s mouth. There’s the smell of hot tarmac and someone’s radio tuned into a classic rock station and, overall, less than an inch between them. Matt pushes his hips forwards, cutting that distance in half, his knees pressing lightly into Harper’s sides.

Harper closes the gap. 

Matt tastes of iced coffee and the bubble gum he’d popped into his mouth earlier, arches further into the kiss, lets slip a needy little noise. Now that Harper thinks on it, there definitely _has_ been an unfortunate amount of non-kissing that had accrued over the course of the day. One of his hands squeezes Matt’s waist while the other sinks into his hair and tugs, effectively deepening the kiss. It’s not entirely like them to do this right out in the open, but neither is keeping their hands off each other for so long.

“Fuck,” Matt says when they break apart, running his tongue across his bottom lip, his eyes a little glassy.

“Yeah,” Harper agrees. 

Matt leans back in, slower this time, coaxes Harper’s mouth open, licks and bargains his way in. He lifts his arms and crosses them behind Harper’s shoulders, his knees pressing in firmer around his frame. Matt tastes so sweet, is just the right degree of pliant in his arms—Harper could get dizzy off it; in fact, he often does. Can’t help but think: last night, the heat abiding, Matt gasping for him, the way he had reacted to his praise. Harper would cross a _thousand_ fucking state lines as long as at the end there were Matt, the long line of his neck, the way he calls him _Jamie_ , and everything else refusing to make sense.

Matt pulls back to look Harper in the eye and Harper knows that Matt is thinking of it too.

Matt sighs, then presses one, two, three soft kisses to his lips, his knees relaxing, his feet dropping back towards the ground. Harper winds an arm around his waist and pulls him off the trunk and flush against his chest, then presses a series of exaggerated kisses to the side of his neck. Matt laughs, and Harper can see the redness in his cheeks when they finally part for good. 

“How was that for being responsible?” Harper asks. 

“It _should_ hold us over,” Matt concedes. He tugs his T-Shirt back into place and reaches behind him for the cup of iced coffee, then pushes his sunglasses onto his nose and says, “Better get back on the road—we’ve still got quite a long way to go.”

“Go _where_?” Harper tries again, emphatically. He, too, lowers his sunglasses and walks around to the driver’s side of the car.

Matt just grins and gets back in.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout-out to ao3 user viskovie for coming up with the headcanon of Matt calling Harper _Jamie_ , which I have been flailing over ever since. Hope you enjoyed this little reward <3


End file.
